


Duties and Expectations

by BreakfastTea



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Prompto gets a mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24560287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Now that he's finished school, Noctis is determined to help his father by taking on as much work as possible.Unfortunately, he's taken on way too much...
Comments: 24
Kudos: 172





	Duties and Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> Fanfic Friday number 2 is here! :D This is for you, Angiephantom!

Work hard, protect Dad. That was Noctis’ motto. Because if he could take on more of Dad’s workload now that he’d graduated high school, give Dad a chance to rest, maybe…

…maybe Dad wouldn’t die.

Not that Noctis would ever admit aloud to that being the reason why he said yes to everything. Meetings, ceremonies, volunteer work – you name it, he did it. Now he was out of school, he dedicated himself to his people. He also made time to study sociology, attending university classes remotely, which, thanks to Ignis’ impeccable planning, was eight PM Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays were dedicated to training with Gladio. It was the only chance he had to see Prompto too, who was well on his way to becoming a Crownsguard. Noctis was proud of his friend, and he made sure Prompto knew it.

It was a lot. And Noctis knew he was sacrificing sleep for the sake of Dad and the nation. It was a small thing to give up when he had so much to do. Dad seemed to be ageing faster than ever now. He looked forty years older than he really was, and there had been health scares lately. Headaches, fainting spells… Noctis couldn’t let Dad down, even though he wasn’t the kind of person who could survive on four hours a night. That was why Noctis discovered a forced appreciation of coffee. It would never be his favourite, but if he dumped enough sugar into it, even he could chug enough to power through his days.

(But seriously, how did Ignis drink so much of this stuff willingly?)

If Noctis kept going, Dad could leave more to him. He’d trained for this his whole life. He could attend meetings, support plans to rehome refugees, ensure benefits made their way to communities in need, and volunteer wherever he was needed. He even found time to sit in on Dad’s war meetings. Noctis needed to know, needed to gain an understanding of how it worked.

Today, the morning dawned cold and bleak. There was snow in the air. Noctis dragged himself out of bed, already weary. Back aching, he downed a few painkillers with his morning coffee. Ignis would be picking him up in half an hour, which gave him enough time to shower, shave and review his schedule. Looked like he’d be spending most of his day helping out at a downtown shelter in need of repair. After that, he had a couple of meetings with community leaders to find out where his efforts were needed, and then a training session with Gladio. Noctis was looking forward to his day at the shelter. He liked work where the effects were immediately noticeable. He dressed appropriately, throwing a few extra layers in his backpack.

He heard the door opening as Ignis came in. Noctis left his bedroom, stretching out lingering aches in his back and his legs. The cold weather always messed up his body. It also made his nose run, so he grabbed a couple packs of tissues and jammed those in his bag too.

“Ah, there you are,” Ignis said. He had a travel mug in his hand. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, ready,” Noctis said.

“I’ve left a change of clothes for you at the Citadel for this evening’s meetings. Your training gear is there too.”

“Thanks, Ignis.” Noctis realised he hadn’t even taken a change of clothes into account. Honestly, how would he ever remember everything he needed to do alone? He wouldn’t. It was as simple as that. Without Ignis, Noctis knew everything would fall apart. He needed to pick up some of Ignis’ planning habits. Maybe then he’d be able to manage his own life more effectively and take some of that burden off Ignis’ shoulders.

Ignis led him out of the apartment. “I’ll pick you up at 4pm. Gladio and the Crownsguard will be present throughout the day.”

“It’s a shelter,” Noctis said.

“You know perfectly well that any trip into the city puts you at risk,” Ignis said.

Yeah, Noctis was painfully aware. He’d been on the receiving end of more than one attack in his lifetime. He kept his mouth shut. He didn’t need to get into a debate at 6:30am.

The drive to the shelter would take almost two hours. Noctis sat in the back, fighting the urge to take a nap. He had too much to go over; notes for today’s meetings, revision notes for his online classes, numbers from the frontlines… Thank goodness he didn’t suffer from motion sickness. He’d never get through all his work if he did.

Ignis dropped him off with Gladio and the Crownsguard. The media were there, ready to capture everything as Noctis met with the shelter’s staff and got to work helping them fix the roof. Snow fell gently from the sky. Noctis didn’t care; the hard work kept him warm. He hammered new struts into place and helped place the rooftiles. He had to pause to wipe his nose more than once. He chugged his way through his water bottle too, trying to placate the scratch at the back of his throat. He’d probably breathed in too much dust.

By the end of the day, he was sore and exhausted. Not that he cared. He’d done good today. The shelter had a new roof, and after his meeting, he’d make sure they had all the funding they needed too. Ignis came to collect both him and Gladio. Seated in the back once again, Noctis pulled his notes out of his bag.

“Whoa, what’s this? Not taking a nap?” Gladio asked.

“Just reviewing my notes before the meetings,” Noctis said. He cleared his throat. “Gotta get everything right.”

“There are water bottles and snacks in the centre console,” Ignis said.

Noctis wasted no time grabbing them. It wouldn’t do any good if his stomach started grumbling halfway through a meeting. Not that he’d really had much of an appetite today. There was too much to do. Even now, Ignis’ healthy snack sat poorly in Noctis’ stomach. He knew he was a little anxious about all the meetings, but no more than usual. Didn’t stop the nerves from finding their way to his stomach, fluttering around until he felt nauseous. It took all of his etiquette training to hold in the massive sigh he wanted to release. Well, and he didn’t want to get questioning looks or lectures from Ignis and Gladio.

They made it to the Citadel with time for Noctis to shower and change. He hurried to his meeting, listening to Ignis’ recap of everything he needed to cover even though he had it all memorised. Actually, he knew it all so well, his mind had shifted onto the essay he needed to write for his sociology class. And the meeting he had tomorrow. Not to mention the gala he had to attend in his father’s place…

So much to do. If he could get the essay done, he could take a few weeks off as classes would be on winter hiatus. That would be one less thing to worry about.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Noctis entered the meeting room. It was on one of the Citadel’s upper floors, away from the more touristy areas but nowhere close to the private residence or the government areas. Gladio took up his place by the door, Ignis sat at Noctis’ side, and the meeting got underway. Two hours later, they broke, with funding agreed for the community groups. Noctis agreed to visit as soon as he had room in his schedule. Ignis saw the visitors out and Noctis went with Gladio to the training hall. After a series of stretches, Gladio decided to focus on daggers. Noctis couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Gladio _sucked_ with daggers. He was too tall, too broad, and too slow to wield them properly.

“I’ll get you back when we go back to broadswords,” Gladio muttered.

“Yeah, you said that after the Great Shuriken Incident,” Noctis said, dropping into a fighting stance.

“We’ll get to axes someday too.”

“Did I mention I’ve figured out how to warp when using crossbows?”

Gladio groaned. “I always knew I was gonna regret training you.”

It was a quick fight. Gladio couldn’t move fast enough to keep up with Noctis, and Noctis was more tired than he thought because the one victory left him gasping for breath.

“Too much time sat behind a desk, Noct,” Gladio said. “Do we need to throw in a morning working out session?”

Noctis chugged an energy drink. “No, thank you.” He wasn’t sure he could cope with even less sleep.

Thankfully, Gladio was already bored of being beaten up, so they switched to conditioning exercises. By the time they finished, Noctis could feel his whole body quaking with exertion. He took another shower, found Ignis, and headed home. Ignis left him home alone after extracting a promise Noctis would eat dinner. Noctis made his best attempt to eat a rice dish, but between his tiredness and his need to at least make a start on his essay, he forgot. Plus he still had a scratch at the back of his throat.

Noctis made it as far as completing his opening paragraph before the call of his bed became too strong.

* * *

Weeks passed in a buzz of activity. At times, Noctis could hardly think through his exhaustion. The itch in the back of his throat never seemed to fade, probably because he had to spend so much of his time speaking to people. The mild congestion never let up either, and he figured that was because he would volunteer outside in the freezing Insomnia winter chill and then spend hours indoors meeting with all sorts of people. His body was simply adjusting to his new lifestyle.

Even if four hours of sleep a night would never be enough for him. And all the coffee left him with permanent nausea.

Meetings, council sessions, training, engagements, galas, homework, reading notes, taking notes, volunteering… He wouldn’t say a word to anyone, but he was worn to the bone. How did Dad cope with all this while holding up the Wall? If Dad, Ignis, Gladio… hell, if anyone knew how drained he was just from a regular royal work, they’d be embarrassed at his weakness. He was already embarrassed, honestly.

Today though, Noctis had a free afternoon before his evening class, and he intended to spend it catching up on sleep. It was going to be so, so good. Just him, his bed, and hours of uninterrupted sleep. He had to attend one meeting this morning with the council, and then the afternoon was his.

Ignis dropped his off at the Citadel before dawn had broken. Noctis went up to the council chambers. He could hear raised voices before he went through the doors.

That couldn’t be good.

Pushing his concern aside, Noctis entered the chambers.

And left at seven o’clock that night after a marathon session talking the more conservative counsellors out of their anti-refugee policies. Dad even left him to it, leaving the meeting early. Noctis was glad; Dad didn’t need to waste his time or energy on these people. He could handle it, even if it cost him an afternoon of sleep.

Except, as Ignis drove him home for his evening class, Noctis realised he’d almost lost his voice. And the scratch in the back of his throat threatened to turn into a cough if he didn’t drink enough cold water to quash it. He also had a throbbing headache after being on the receiving end of a lot of shouting all day long.

“I’m impressed, Noct, and so is your father,” Ignis told him. “You held your own and talked those counsellors down. You’ve put your city and its people first.”

Of course he had. That was his job. “Thanks, Ignis.”

“Be sure to rest your voice over night,” Ignis said.

Noctis made it back to his apartment in time to warm some soup and get to his online class. He barely managed to get through, and most of his soup stayed in the bowl where it cooled and congealed. The sight of it made him nauseous, and he took it to the kitchen and flushed it down the sink.

Sighing, Noctis leaned his head against a cupboard door. Eyes closed, he felt tears pressing against his eyelids. He’d really, really needed the afternoon. He’d needed the rest. It was weak of him to admit it, but he didn’t even care. He knew the people of Insomnia, of Lucis, deserved better, but right now? Now he just wanted some sleep.

Except class didn’t finish for a few more hours.

Returning to his laptop with a cool glass of water, Noctis did his best to get through the remainder of the session without falling asleep.

* * *

His schedule didn’t calm down. Ignis seemed determined to cram as much in as humanly possible, and Noctis agreed to do it, even though he was now taking medication every morning before Ignis arrived to manage his cold symptoms. Because that was what he had. A cold. One without end that seemed determined to turn the lining of his throat into razorblades.

It didn’t matter. It was a cold. Dad was holding up the Wall keeping Niflheim out of Insomnia. If Dad could do that, Noctis could carry on too. Although he did keep his distance from Dad. He didn’t want to infect him after all.

Chugging his second coffee of the morning, ignoring the now familiar buzzing in his chest as the caffeine hit his heartrate, Noctis checked his phone. Prompto had left a bunch of messages. It was the only way they could really communicate these days, what with Noctis running all over the city and Prompto training hard to become a member of the Crownsguard. He was tempted to throw his weight around and demand they both got a day off to just hang out like they used to, but Noctis could see from the messages that Prompto had made friends and seemed to be enjoying training a lot. And, based off the reports Noctis got from Cor, Prompto was doing well. Turned out years of videogames had given him the ability to hit just about any target anywhere.

Fingers hovering over his screen, Noctis felt a sudden rush of nausea. It was so strong, he barely made it to the sink in time to throw up.

Shit. That complicated things.

By the time he was done heaving, he threw bleach down the sink to clean it and get rid of the stench. Knowing he needed a shower, he turned, only for the world to keep turning around him.

He came to on the ground, to the sound of Ignis’ key opening the door.

Noctis staggered to his feet. He had to hold onto the counter to keep himself upright as Ignis walked into sight.

“Not showered yet?” Ignis asked by way of greeting. “Come along, Noct. You have a school visit this morning and –”

“I’m going,” Noctis said. He pulled in a deep breath and walked confidently to the bathroom, pretending he wasn’t so dizzy he thought he might fall over at any second.

He showered sitting down, eyes closed, willing his body to not give up like this. He had too much to do today: the school visit, meetings with local business leaders, a training session with Gladio, a speech to give to the new Kingsglaive recruits, notes to prep before tomorrow’s economic forum…

He punched the floor with his fist. He could do this. He would do this. This was nothing compared to everything Dad had to do. The more of a burden Noctis took on, the less Dad had to worry about.

“Noct?” Ignis called from outside the bathroom. “Five minutes. We need to be on our way soon.”

“Okay.”

Five minutes later, body aching and hollowed out, Noctis left. And with the help of a few sneaky potions and even an Elixir, he got through his day without a single hiccup.

Until Gladio. Because the medicine and the magic steadily wore off, and Noctis couldn’t stop himself yawning, no matter how much it hurt his throat to do so.

“There’s something up with you,” Gladio said.

“No, there isn’t.” Noctis just had to get through the remainder of the day. Then he could get some sleep and hopefully feel better tomorrow. He grabbed the training axe they’d been working with all week. “Let’s just get this done.”

Gladio’s hand landed on Noctis’ shoulder. “Talk to me.”

Words bubbled up inside Noctis. He forced them all back down. “It’s fine. It’s been a long day.”

“More like a long three months. You need a break.”

No. No he didn’t. If he took a break, it meant more work for Dad. “It’s fine.”

Gladio turned Noctis to face him. “A long time ago, you forced yourself into training with me when you were sick. I know the signs, Noct. You’re not well.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m sick.” Dad was dying. “I need to keep working.”

“Not like this,” Gladio said. “You think your dad would want this?”

What Dad wanted didn’t matter. Didn’t matter what Noctis wanted either. They existed for the sake of the country, and for the sake of the Crystal.

Gladio sighed. “When’s your next scheduled rest day?”

Rest day? _Rest day_? Noctis laughed. “There isn’t one.”

“What? Show me your schedule!”

Noctis dug his phone out of his kitbag and brought up his diary. Gladio snatched the device out of his hands and began scrolling through it. “What the hell, Noct! You can’t keep up with this! It’s not even human. Who created this?”

He’d created it. He received requests, he didn’t turn anyone down, and Ignis helped him squeeze everything in, shunting things around to make sure everything fit.

“Are you seriously telling me Ignis never even once scheduled a day or two for downtime?”

“Dad never gets downtime so why should I?” Noctis asked.

Gladio’s mouth dropped open. Words failed him. He dumped the phone back in Noctis’ hands. “You’re going home. Now. You’re taking the rest of the week off, no questions asked. You’re sick. I can feel the heat coming off you.”

“But –”

“Noct, there’s no way your dad would expect this of you. No one should. This is an insane schedule, and you are sick.”

“People need me,” Noctis said.

“They can wait. And sit down before you fall down. You’re swaying.”

Too exhausted to argue, Noctis dropped to the ground. “Don’t shout at Ignis. I told him to make sure I kept every appointment.”

“He’s meant to rein you in at times. And you aren’t meant to do five people’s jobs. You don’t need to do all the stuff you’re doing. The idea is to condense it rather than running yourself ragged trying to be everywhere at once.”

Great. He couldn’t even do his own duties right. And his screwup cost Dad. Because Dad would have to start attending all the meetings again and –

– And he was gonna throw up. Noctis sprinted to the nearest bathroom and lost what little he’d managed to eat today. That, and a lot of coffee, which did _not_ taste good on the rebound.

“I think we need to go to the infirmary,” Gladio said.

Noctis wanted to argue, but he was too busy throwing up again.

“Yeah, we’re definitely going. And when you feel better, we’re gonna talk about time management and how to keep people’s expectations of you in check.”

Wondering when exactly Gladio got so wise, Noctis waved a hand in surrender. Infirmary, fine. The sooner he felt better, the sooner he could get back to work.

* * *

Diagnosed with a nasty virus, over-exertion and dehydration, Noctis was connected to hooked up to an IV that both rehydrated him and stopped his stomach from throwing up anything else. He found himself sinking into his pillows, sleep wrapping its welcoming arms around him even though his mind kept hopping from one topic to another, desperately trying to figure out how he’d reschedule his various meetings, visits, volunteer sessions and classes.

He ignored the voice in his head telling him Gladio was right. Because Gladio had to be wrong. Noctis had duties that needed carrying out. He couldn’t be so weak and pathetic that a few months working like this was all it took to bring him to his knees.

There came a knock on his door. Noctis called the person in, waiting for a doctor or nurse to step in and check over him. Instead, he heard a familiar tap as his father entered the room.

Shit. Shit! He didn’t need to expose Dad to this cold. “I’m okay, Dad. You don’t have to be here. You should keep your distance.”

Dad ignored him, taking a seat at his bedside. “A cold won’t kill me.”

Noctis flinched.

Dad sighed. “Gladio spoke to me regarding your schedule. We need to talk about it.”

“It’s fine. I just caught a cold and didn’t get over it.”

“You have been working so hard for our people, but at the cost of your health.”

Noctis stared at Dad.

“Noct, I’ve seen your schedule. Punishing isn’t a strong enough word. Even in my youth I didn’t keep appointments like you do. It’s not sustainable. And it won’t continue.”

“People will be disappointed. And you’ll have to pick up my slack.”

“I won’t. The projects you have set up with refugee organisations are all running very smoothly. You’ve managed to fund them all, and while I understand how much you enjoy volunteering, I don’t think they need to see quite so much of you.”

“They’ll think I’m useless. They’ll think I’m only in it for the publicity or –”

“No one will think that,” Dad said.

Noctis snorted. They both knew some sections of society’s opinions of them.

“Fine, no one who matters will thank that. The rest of it, you ignore as usual.”

The people and their needs mattered to Noctis, more than he could explain. It wasn’t because he was trying to shrug off the image of the lazy, spoilt prince who had everything done for him. And it turned out being so busy wasn’t just to take the pressure off Dad. He enjoyed his work. It felt good to do something useful for once, instead of watching it all from the distance.

“Our people will want to know that you are well,” Dad said. “That’s what matters. And I’m going to have Ignis rework your schedule. I’ll not have you burn out like this again.”

Hoping he wouldn’t burst into tears, Noctis met Dad’s gaze. “I’m sorry I’ve let you down.”

“You haven’t let me down! Our lives are burdensome, yes, but you need not take on so much. For goodness sake, Noct, you are one person. You need to build in some downtime.”

“But you – ”

“Putting the Wall aside for a moment, I do have downtime. In fact, I’m having some right now. And I do in fact have the entire weekend. I’d like to spend some of it with you, assuming you don’t intend to sleep away every last hour of it.”

“That’d be nice,” Noctis said.

“Good. Keep your old man company.”

“I meant sleep.”

Dad shot him a look. “And as I can hear your thoughts churning away, I will have Ignis and Gladio explain your absence from various upcoming events. We can send your well-wishes and gifts in place of you. We need discuss how to manage people’s expectations of you too.”

“Gladio said the same thing.”

Regis nodded. “Because he learned well from his father.”

Frowning, Noctis fiddled with his blankets. He wanted people to expect that he would deliver his best at all times.

“Right now, you need to rest. Rest, get better, and stop frowning so much. You need to make it all look effortless, and you’re not going to manage that as a teenager with this look on his face.” Dad mocked Noctis’ stern expression.

Noctis burst into helpless laughter. It ended in a round of coughing that left his throat on fire again, but it was totally worth it.

Dad grinned while he helped Noctis take a few sips of water. “Would you like a bedtime story?”

Noctis rolled onto his side. “Night, Dad.”

“There once was a young man –”

“Dad.”

“Who wanted to help people as much as he could.”

“Dad, seriously.”

“Except in doing so, he completely neglected himself.”

Noctis hid under his blanket.

“Until he exploded and that was when the people realised they’d taken too much of the man’s time because he did not yet understand the importance of time management.”

To Noctis’ later astonishment, Dad’s story actually drove him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading ^_^


End file.
